


To Be Held

by vodka_and_some_sass



Category: British Actor RPF
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:26:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26562853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vodka_and_some_sass/pseuds/vodka_and_some_sass
Summary: Tom has returned to London after his six month debut on Broadway. In that time, you’ve lost everything and everyone you held dear and it was easy to forget that you still had one person you could count on.
Relationships: Tom Hiddleston/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 38





	To Be Held

Throwing on a simple dress and not bothering much with makeup, you grabbed your keys, trying hard to ignore the pile of bills and letters that lay on your table. But you couldn’t. Not when the words ‘EVICTION NOTICE’ stood out, almost screaming at you, reminding you how your life was slowly falling apart. Pushing the thought from your mind, you trudged down the stairs. The Tube was crowded, people going home after a long day’s work and you distracted your meandering thoughts by watching them, trying to imagine their lives. 

Warmth enveloped you when you entered the old pub that you and Tom had often frequented when you were in Cambridge. You spotted him immediately, sitting at a corner booth in that blue pullover that had become an internet sensation in itself, his tall frame making the booth seem ridiculously small. He waved at you, grinning with unconcealed excitement and you couldn’t help but smile. You removed your coat and slid into the booth across from him only to notice that he had already ordered your favourite drink and something to snack on.

“Darling! It’s so good to see you! It’s been far too long.” He reached over and bumped your shoulder with his fist. You chuckled, taking off your scarf and placing it on your coat. Meeting Tom when he returned from his shoots used to be something you always looked forward to even when your life had been stable, for the two of you always had fun stories to share. This time though, he had been away for six months, performing at Broadway and in that short time, your life had come apart from the seams. And because of the time difference between New York and London, you hadn’t really had a proper conversation with Tom while he was away, meaning he did not know what had happened. You decided that you’d keep it that way, because you did not want him to worry about you. 

“I took the liberty of ordering you your signature drink. I have missed fish and chips. Oh to be back home!” Tom had a wide grin on his face as he pushed your glass towards you, reaching for a chip and popping it into his mouth. “How have you been?” 

You sipped your drink, smiling up at him as you settled into the seat. “I’ve been well. How was New York? Was it as exciting as you hoped?”

“You look tired. You’ve been working too hard again, haven’t you?” He asked, gesturing at your face. You blushed lightly, shaking your head.

“Just the usual. I want to hear about New York, Tom!” You diverted the conversation back to him. He popped another chip into his mouth, blue eyes studying you curiously. He swallowed and sipped his drink before another wide grin broke out on his face.

“It was truly wonderful. I did ask you to come and visit me, you know! You would have loved it. Central Park was definitely my favourite place and if it wasn’t for the paps, I would probably have spent every free moment there.” He pushed the plate of chips away, reaching for the fish because he knew you wouldn’t eat it. “And Halloween was such a riot! Did you see the costume I wore? It was frankly quite ridiculous but I found myself enjoying it. Bobby definitely had fun. Some days, instead of leaving him in the suite, I’d bring him to the theatre and he’d be coddled and pampered by the entire team and crew. By the end of the run, everyone had begun to carry treats in their pockets just for him.” 

You chuckled lightly. “Bobby is the better looking of your duo,” you teased, “His curls are more luscious and natural.” Winking, you reached for a chip and noticed that Tom was studying you intently. You knew how perceptive he could be and before he could ask you anything, you fired another question at him. 

The conversation continued like that for another hour, where before Tom could ask you a question, you’d ask him something. He was too polite to force you to open up, but what had begun as a niggling sense of worry grew into a more serious sense of concern. He watched you carefully while he chattered almost animatedly, saw how you hardly ate anything and the exhaustion that was lining your eyes. But the more you fielded his questions, the less important his chivalry seemed. 

You were surprised when instead of ordering another round of drinks, Tom offered you his hand and proposed taking a walk, his excuse being that he missed the London air. It had been something you had done as students, but over time, because of how little you got to see each other, you often just spent your get-togethers at the pub, keeping the drinks and snacks coming. You took his hand and lifted yourself out of the booth. He held your coat up, helping you tuck your hands through the sleeves and handing you your scarf. You forced yourself not to flinch when you and Tom split the bill, even though he tried to pay the whole thing. You had forgotten that both you and Tom were known for your extravagant taste in alcohol and while you had stopped being able to afford it, you were not going to let Tom foot the entire bill. You never had in the past and would not start now. Almost guiltily, you felt relieved that he had suggested a walk. 

You walked for a few minutes in silence, your hands in the pockets of your coat as you stared at the ground passing beneath your feet. It was uncomfortable and odd, but you had run out of questions to ask Tom. You couldn’t remember a time when there was such awkward silence between you and the burden of guilt for ruining Tom’s visit began to weigh on you. You were about to make an excuse to go home when Tom hesitantly ventured to break the silence. 

“How is your dad doing? He had been unwell in the months before my departure.” 

You tried hard not to let tears fill your eyes, but Tom had a way of tearing down your walls with his genuinity and concern. Looking ahead although you could feel his eyes on you, you answered him quietly. “He passed away a couple of weeks after you left.” 

A large hand landed on your shoulder, holding you gently but firmly enough to stop you. You turned, giving Tom a watery smile that he saw through. Pulling you into a sideways embrace, he wrapped one hand around you, resting his chin on your head as he whispered, “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I wish I had been here for you.” He rubbed soothing circles on your shoulder, and you allowed a few tears to fall before you pulled away. Wiping your eyes, you just gave him another shaky smile. Sadness turned his blue eyes grey, much like the London sky as he pushed a lock of your hair behind your ear. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“I didn’t want to worry you.” You scuffed a stone with your shoe before beginning to walk again. A more honest smile graced your face as you remembered how proud your father had been of Tom when you had told him that Tom was debuting on Broadway. Among the many terrible choices you made in friends, your father had always reminded you to hold on to Tom, for he knew that Tom would always be there for you. Yet you would never ask that of Tom. 

After a moment of heavy silence, Tom whispered again. “Does that mean you’re running the store on your own?” 

This time you could not hold back the tears from falling when you thought of the bookstore that your father had built from scratch. He had travelled to acquire as many editions of as many books he could and he often joked that after your mother had left you as a baby in his arms and disappeared, he had married his shop and the books in it had helped him raise you to be the person you were now. 

You swallowed down a sob. “I lost it to the insurance company.” You took a moment to notice that Tom was no longer walking beside you. You turned to find him a few paces behind, a frown on his face as he stared at you intently, as though he was trying to read your mind. “Tom?” You called.

His long legs covered the distance between you in a few steps. You were always jealous of how tall he was compared to you and even now, though he was hunched slightly from the cold, you had to crane your neck back slightly to look at him. His voice was low as his eyes flicked between yours. “What else are you not telling me?” 

You tried to come across as nonchalant and brushed his question off like he wasn’t asking you to repeat to him what a mess you had made of your life. You smiled the practiced smile that you had learned to give customers at the pub you waitressed in, or at the supermarket when you had particularly testy shoppers. “It’s not as bad as it sounds.” 

“I want to know what ‘it sounds’ like.” He insisted, his eyes narrowing as he saw through your lie. 

You knew he would not let up on you until you told him everything. And you knew that he’d see through every single lie like he did the first. So you let your walls crumble. Your shoulders drooped with the burdens you carried and you felt nausea rise as you relayed the events of the last six months to your friend. Your eyes gained a hollow, faraway look as you told him how after your father died, the insurance company went after you like sharks. You spent all your savings on lawyers, and when your savings ran out, you sold all your jewellery and your car. And still you were unable to win the case. You had lost your source of income, your savings and your only remaining family in a single blow. You had tried to get a job as a teacher, but you were inexperienced and only had skills in the art of bookselling. 

Bills started piling up and you slowly began to let go of necessities. Over the weeks that followed, you started having cold showers and stopped using the radiator. It did reduce your electricity bill, but hardly enough to make a dent. You started skipping meals, sometimes resorting to a mug of coffee in the mornings and some soup at night. Finding the job at the pub was a blessing because it gave you one free meal a shift and you had begun to treasure that. Even though you had two jobs, you were barely making enough to pay all the bills and overdue fines. You finally ran out of luck two weeks ago when the eviction notice slipped under your door, giving you a month to pack up and move out. 

You looked up at Tom, a humourless smile on your face. “So that is where I stand at the moment. I’ve decided I’m getting rid of what I can, I’ll probably keep just my clothes and a few sentimental personal things that belonged to Dad.” 

Tom reached forward, making as if to hug you but you flinched away. “No, Tom. You don’t get to pity me.” Your eyes were hard as you stared him down, hating the pity and sadness that swam in those ocean blue eyes. “I’ve found a halfway home and I’ll get back on my feet. This is temporary. I’m stronger than this and-”

You lost the last thread of control when Tom simply wrapped you in a tight hug and held you. “I know you are strong. You’re so strong that you bore all this alone. You didn’t have to, but you did.” Your control gone, you allowed yourself to sob into Tom’s pullover. You mumbled apologies even though Tom kept trying to shush you, his hands warm against your back as he rubbed long stripes up and down. You tried to match your breathing to his movements, slowly regaining some poise as you pulled away from him just the slightest bit. His large hands drifted to your face, cupping your jaw as his thumbs wiped away your tears. “I want to help you, but I know you will not let me. But darling, I cannot see you like this.” 

You were startled to see grief swimming in Tom’s eyes, his jaw tight as he seemed to hold back his own emotions. It had been so long since someone had shown you sympathy that you had forgotten that there was still one person out there who cared for you. There was one man who would not look at you with cold eyes and reject you and the resurrection of that knowledge broke you as you fell back into his arms and allowed yourself to cry. You don’t know for how long he held you like that, but you knew that the moment you pulled away, you would turn into the shell of a person that the last six months had made you. You didn’t want that just yet. You wanted to feel the pain and sorrow and loss. And Tom seemed to understand that. So he did all that you would allow him to do for you. He held you.


End file.
